You Oughta Know
by ZannahBanana
Summary: Quinn doesn't want Puck back. But she doesn't want Santana to have him, either. Will a certain song get her feelings across to him? Quick.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or 'You Oughta Know'.**

"I love you soooo much," Sam Evans cooed in Quinn Fabray's ear. She shuddered as his breath slid down to her neck.

"I know," she said through gritted teeth, slamming her locker door shut.

"I love you," he hissed again. Quinn shrugged his chin off of her shoulder and turned around.

"I know!" she said. "I get it, Sam! You love me! Do you have to tell me every two minutes?"

"Whoa," said Sam, holding up his hands as if to protect himself. "Excuse me for being a loving boyfriend."

"Well, you know what, maybe you're being a little _too _loving!" Quinn said, pushing past him. She had only made it a few yards before Sam called after her.

"Hey, you're the one always complaining that Puckerman never acted like he loved you!" Sam yelled.

Quinn turned around, seething now. "You…you…"

Sam raised his eyebrows.

Quinn smiled. But it wasn't her peppy, happy, Cheerios smile. It was her angry smile. Without blinking, she slipped the little promise ring off her right hand and dropped it on the floor. It clanked against the tile, and Quinn raised her eyebrows at Sam, then turned on her heel and stalked off.

She had been feeling so angry lately. Sam's sappiness was annoying her, Rachel and Finn's personal drama was exhausting, and she had been thinking a lot about Beth and Puck. As angry as it made her, Quinn missed Beth, and she really missed Puck.

_Really _missed him.

But yet, she didn't want him back. She knew that if she did that, no matter what he said, the first thing he would do would be to try to get her in bed. And she was not going to make that mistake again.

Just then, she passed Puck and Santana, making out in the hallway. Santana was running her hands up and down Puck's muscled arms, and Quinn swore she could see Puck smirking as he kissed Santana. Hot anger boiled inside of Quinn, and even though she didn't want him back, she didn't want to see this, either.

Quinn walked faster, en route to the Glee Club meeting.

Hasn't he learned anything? Quinn thought. I thought he would be more of a gentleman after everything we went through. I thought he would try harder to get me back.

Quinn felt like punching something. Her flawless face kept turning redder and redder until…she had an idea. She had the perfect way to express her anger….or, rather, the perfect song.

When Quinn reached the choir room, she didn't even sit down: she proceeded right to Mr. Shuester, who was standing at the piano, looking at some sheet music.

"Mr. Shue?" she said, stopping to stand right in front of him.

Will looked up. "Hi, Quinn. Can I do something for you?"

"I was wondering if I could sing a song to kick off the meeting today," Quinn said. Mr. Shue looked at her quizzically, and she continued, "You're always telling us that song is a great way to express ourselves, and I think that my performance could be inspiring to some of the other members of Glee Club."

Mary, Mother of God, Quinn thought, I sound like Rachel.

"Uh…" Mr. Shue took off his reading glasses. "Sure, Quinn. If you feel you need to express yourself…go for it."

"Thanks, Mr. Shue," said Quinn. She gave him a small smile, then walked over to her usual seat in the back row.

Ten minutes later, the whole Glee Club was assembled in the choir room. After Mr. Shue had quieted the kids down, he began to speak.

"Now, we've got a lot of work to do today-Regionals are just around the corner-but first, Quinn would like to sing something she's prepared for us."

Everyone turned around and looked at Quinn. Some looked confused, like Artie and Sam; others looked just appalled, like Rachel and Finn. Quinn tried not to get nervous and walked down to the front of the room.

Without saying a word to the Glee Clubbers, she walked over to the guitarist in the band and whispered something in his ear. He nodded, smiled, and whispered to all of his other bandmates. They all looked excited, then the drummer and the bass guitarist started playing the opening notes of the song.

Quinn pulsed her leg in time with the drum beat, and when the time came, opened her mouth and sang out in a clear voice:

"_I want you to know_

_That I'm happy for you._

_I wish nothing but the best for you both._"

Quinn took the slight pause before the next line to look at the audience. Everyone looked shocked: they knew this song, and they knew what was coming.

But Quinn, deciding that singing this song the way it was written would get her sent to Figgins' office, decided to change the song to fit her situation and keep her out of trouble. But it would still serve its purpose.

"_Another version of me:_

_Is she popular like me?_

_Would she go down with you to the theater?_

_Does she speak eloquently_

_And would she have your baby?_

_I'm sure she'd make a really excellent mother._"

Puck's jaw was practically at his feet now.

"'_Cuz the love that you gave _

_That we made_

_Wasn't able to make it enough_

_For you to be open wide._"

"No!" shouted the Glee Club, some pumping their fists in the air. Quinn smiled: this was getting good.

"_And every time you speak her name_

_Does she know how you told me you'd hold me_

_Until you died, till you died,_

_But you're still alive!"_

"Uh, Quinn-" started Mr. Shue, but Quinn delved into the chorus.

"_And I'm here_

_To remind you_

_Of the mess you left when you went away!_

_It's not fair_

_To deny me_

_Of the cross I bear that you gave to me_

_You, you, you oughta know!"_

"Quinn, that is enough-!" Mr. Shue yelled, but Quinn had already gone on to the next verse. By this time, everyone in Glee Club but Sam and Puck were clapping to the beat.

"_You seem very well._

_Things look peaceful._

_I'm not quite as well-_

_I thought you should know."_

As she said 'you', Quinn pointed to Puck, and at least three members of the club gasped. She thought she heard Artie say, "Damn, girl…"

"_Did you forget about me, _

_Mr. Duplicity?_

_I hate to bug you in the middle of dinner._

_It was a slap in the face_

_How quickly I was replaced_

_And are you thinking of me when you-"_

Quinn stopped and, very eloquently, slapped her behind.

Everyone whooped and hollered now.

"_-her?"_

"Enough!" Mr. Shue bellowed. The music cut off sharply, and the whole Glee Club was silent.

Quinn looked down at her hands. She knew she'd really done it now. She fiddled with the cross necklace that hung around her neck.

"Quinn," Mr. Shue said quietly, putting his hand on her back, "I know that you probably have some issues with Puck. But that song…it's not you, Quinn. It's highly inappropriate, you know that."

Quinn wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

Mr. Shue sighed. "Look, Quinn. I'm gonna let this go, this time, but if you ever sing something like that again…you're going to have to go talk to Figgins."

Quinn nodded.

"You can use that song to express yourself some other place," said Mr. Shue. "But not in this choir room."

Quinn, crying quietly, nodded. She moved like she was going to go sit down, but instead she turned and walked out of the choir room, trying to hold in her sobs until the door was safely shut. As soon as she was out the door, she ran.

Puck came bursting out the door shortly after her: he couldn't help himself. He tried to call her name, but something stopped him. Puck knew that she would never take him back, and even if she did, that their relationship wouldn't work. It was better that he pretended he didn't care about her.

But as long as a little girl named Beth Corcoran was somewhere out there, Puck knew that there was no way he _couldn't_ care about Quinn.

No way in hell.

**Well, hope you guys liked! I really need to be working on iDream of Dating U, but I read some Glee fics today and got inspired. Plus, I've thought for months that this song was perfect for the Quick relationship, so I had to use it. Sorry if you're mad I changed some of the lyrics, but I just couldn't bring myself to write them. The lyrics I used fit the story better, anyway. Well, R&R, people!**


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